Mercutio sighed as he looked around the Regulation of Magic offices. It was just as he'd suspected; they were trying to turn him into a paper-shuffler.
One of the odd quirks of the Ministry of Magic was the was their reliance on forms, rather than what was right in front of their eyes, a quirk that Mercutio intended to make good use of in his position as Head of Magical Regulation. If he expanded his office by five feet to make room for the billiards table (delivery Thursday-week) nobody would ever notice, especially since they were relying on him to report it.
Just as he was thinking that perhaps being a paper shuffler wouldn't be such a bad way to spend his golden years, an intern came scurrying up. You could tell he was an intern by the air of desperate timidity and the piles of paperwork he was shuffling through as he sped over.
"What's yer name, boy?" Mercutio demanded, before the kid had a chance to get a word out.
"C- Clive Simmons, sir," Clive Simmons stammered out. "There's usually more of us here, sir, only everyone else has gone to lunch, sir."
Gone to lunch without him, and probably took the other interns with them, but Simmons got stuck minding the office because he wasn't cool enough. Mercutio gave the boy a friendly pat on the back that sent the scrawny intern stumbling. Kept hold of his papers, though.
"Keeping the home fires burning, eh Simmons?" he said. "Good lad. You'll go far if you keep up that attitude."
It wasn't just a prediction; it was a promise.
by Sara Robbins Sat Dec 11, 2010 3:36 am